In Pakistan's tribal zone, a ruthless war against the Taliban has driven more than a million
from their homes
By Declan Walsh
20 June 2010
Child refugees from Bajaur seek safety in Peshawar, but still face the threat of attack. The UN
says 1.3 million people have been driven from their homes by fighting in the north. Photograph:
Declan Walsh for the Observer
Pakistani soldiers led the way into the long, cool cave that curled through the hillside, its clammy
walls bearing the scrape marks of crude digging tools.
Torchlight illuminated a pile of abandoned clothes. Until six months ago these caves in Bajaur, at
the northern end of the tribal belt, were home to Taliban and al-Qaida fighters hiding from CIA
drones circling overhead, said Lieutenant-Colonel Asif Jamil. "Uzbeks, Chechens, local Talibs,"
he said, squinting in the faint light. "They dug 35 caves in this area. We've destroyed most of
them."
Could Osama bin Laden have been among the fleeing cave-dwellers? The colonel didn't know,
but thought it unlikely. Gary Brooks Faulkner, however, was betting otherwise. The 50-year-old
American construction worker was arrested 129km north of Bajaur last week, in a remote forest in
Chitral, a popular trekking destination. Armed with a sword, a pistol and a book of Christian verse,
Faulkner declared himself on a one-man mission to find America's public enemy number one.
Media reports have mocked the middle-aged vigilante, who suffers from kidney disease, as
"Rambo" and "American Ninja". But he may not have been wrong to choose this part of Pakistan
for his quixotic hunt.
While western attention most often focuses on Waziristan, at the other end of the tribal belt,
experts say that the northern mountains, around Bajaur and Chitral, are a more likely location for
the fugitive Saudi. In 2006, a CIA-operated Predator fired on a house in Bajaur in a bid to kill bin
Laden's deputy, Ayman al-Zawahiri, who was due to host a dinner that night. The missile missed
its target.
The obsession with catching foreign militants is not shared by most Pakistani officers, who see
them as ghosts in their border war; fleeing shadows rarely captured, but sometimes killed by CIA
drones. For them the more tangible enemy is the local Taliban. It is in that struggle that they claim
to make strong progress – and even critics concede they are right. A series of sweeping military
drives over the past year has cleared militants from Swat, South Waziristan and a large part of
Bajaur. The offensive has broken the momentum of Tehrik-i-Taliban Pakistan, the largest Taliban
group, scattered its leaders and reduced its ability to carry out suicide attacks. "They're on the
run," said Colonel Nauman Saeed, the commander in Bajaur. "We're winning this war."
The question is at what cost. The army's unsophisticated tactics have resulted in human rights
abuses, critics say, and could endanger the wider counter-insurgency goal: public support. The
conflict in the north has displaced 1.3 million people from their homes, according to the UN.
Those from Bajaur have been living rough for almost two years – and still see little hope of
returning home.
One such victim is Hakeem Khan, a 60-year-old with a worry-lined face and a plastic leg. Khan
was badly wounded 18 months ago when an army bomb blasted through his house during a
battle with the Taliban for control of his village, Banda. Relatives rushed Khan to hospital in
Peshawar, where doctors saved his life but had to cut off his leg. Now Khan and 15 relatives live
in an unattractive, two-room house where the rent is exorbitant considering there are no windows
and the water comes through a grimy pipe in the yard. Yet even here they are not safe. Last
October, Khan's 25-year-old son was one of 120 people killed by a Taliban suicide bomber in a
busy Peshawar market. Khan is still distraught. "I lost my leg in Bajaur; my son lost his life in
Peshawar," he said, wiping away a tear. Perhaps understandably, he feels little loyalty to either
side: "I don't care about the government or the Taliban. I just want to go home."
That may not be so simple. Despite army claims of victory in Bajaur, the conflict continues. Last
week, a fierce battle 16km from Khar, the district headquarters, killed 38 militants and 10 Frontier
Corps soldiers, according to official figures. Another battle in Mohmand, the neighbouring tribal
agency, saw more than 50 troops kidnapped and dragged into Afghanistan. At least 15 have
been released.
The war's human cost was highlighted by a recent Amnesty International report that described
the northern frontier as a "human rights free zone". The report accused the military of
indiscriminate shelling, extrajudicial killings and destruction of civilian homes. In Bajaur, the army
has cleared every house along a 64km stretch of road between Khar and Loesam, a former
Taliban stronghold. "The miscreants turned the houses into fortresses, so they had to be
destroyed," said Saeed. Dismayed residents have been told they will have to be housed in two
new villages.
Campaigners say such tactics can alienate local support. "People are getting the bad side of
military operations. What they're not getting is a vision of the endgame," said Sam Zarifi, Asia
director of Amnesty. "There is no political or development strategy."
Army officers insist they cannot come up with a strategy because western aid has not
materialised. A $537m UN humanitarian appeal launched in February has attracted just $156m. A
US plan to spend $750m on developing the area has so far made little progress.
Political tensions complicate the picture. In Bajaur, Saeed expressed outrage at a recent
suggestion by the US secretary of state, Hillary Clinton, that some Pakistani officials "know"
where bin Laden is hiding. "She said it out of sheer ignorance," he said. The colonel recently
visited a German base in Afghanistan surrounded by poppy crops in a district where the Taliban
was resurgent. "If Osama had to hide, would he do it in Pakistan, or in a country where 33
provinces have shadow Taliban governments?" he said.
The Taliban threat remains potent. This month, hundreds gathered on a sports field in North
Waziristan to watch militants execute a man accused of killing his two brothers. Militants recently
torched 50 Nato supply trucks bound for Afghanistan at a depot near Islamabad – the first such
attack at the gates of the capital. And many civilians, caught between an aggressive military and
a ruthless insurgency, remain ambivalent. Asked who they blamed for their troubles, a roomful of
Bajaur refugees in Peshawar went silent. Finally, one man spoke up. "The Taliban," he said
meekly. To win the wider war, Pakistan's army will need a greater show of hands in future.
Copyright 2010 The Observer